Because Morpheus is a Lying Liar who Lies
by Ellynne
Summary: What it says on the label. Belle's dream is interrupted by a sarcastic goddess of death who is passing through who does not approve of Morpheus. A fixit fic.


"Our son... h-he was testing me... playing the part of Morpheus to see if I'd do right by him. And like my other son... I've lost him, too. Even before he's born."

Rumple felt as though his heart were being torn out and crushed. But, if it had been, this pain would stop. Instead, it went on and on. He thought it couldn't possibly get worse. Then, he heard Belle.

"If you ever let true love wake you up," she said. "Then, maybe you wouldn't keep losing."

"Ooo, burn! Did you feel that one? It left scorch marks."

Belle, Rumplestiltskin, and Morpheus turned. A young woman stood nearby. She had long, black hair and reddish-brown skin. Her clothes would have been old-fashioned in the land without magic. She wore a black bolero and matching skirt with a white blouse and a lacy, white cravat. She was looking at Belle with an extremely sarcastic expression.

"Projecting much, are you? I mean, your guy's been in and out of death to protect you, crossed worlds, and been betrayed by . . . gee, _everyone._ All while you were taking a nap and _refusing_ to let him wake you up with true love's kiss. And, somehow, that's his fault? Do enlighten me. How does that work?"

Belle looked confused for a moment, but Morpheus quickly stepped between her and the newcomer. "He's done nothing but betray her—"

"And you're a lying liar who lies." The woman peered around Morpheus. "Yoo-hoo, hello, Belle. Can you see me? Mr. Manipulator doesn't want me to talk to you. You're not falling for this guy's garbage, are you?"

"He's . . . he's my son."

"Really? Because, five minutes ago, he said he was a god. I mean, if we're going on his track record so far, have you got any evidence of him telling you the truth in the five minutes you've known him?"

"I wouldn't lie to her! Father will ruin everything! He—"

The woman rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. _You're_ playing the let's-punish-the-guy-now-for-crimes-hasn't-committed-yet card? That's rich. Ever heard that question that really pretentious philosophy majors like to throw around? If you get shown a baby and are told he's going to grow up to be an evil overlord, do you squash him like a bug? If I were you, your embryonic evilness, I would _not_ be voting for bug squashing.

"But, seriously, Belle. You're buying this? I mean, I'm sure you were quite the precocious tot in your day, but doesn't Junior—excuse me, _alleged_ Junior—here seem a bit advanced for his age? I mean, I've got a half-brother who, I have it on good authority, was cattle-rustling before he was a week old, and I think he's got a credibility problem."

"Who cares what you think?" Morpheus roared. "Who are you anyway?"

"Oh, good question. Unlike you, I'm going to answer honestly. Or, better yet, why don't I get someone to confirm my identity. Rumplestiltskin, who do you think I am?"

"Persephone," Rumplestiltskin said. "You're Persephone."

Morpheus paled. He looked at the woman then back at Rumplestiltskin. "You're lying."

Rumplestiltskin shook his head.

" _You're lying._ "

"I met her," Rumplestiltskin said. "Before."

Persephone leaned in towards Belle and stage whispered, "He means back when he was dead. You know, when he died to save you and his son? One of those times when I guess he wasn't letting true love in. Golly gee, there's such a _lot_ of them, isn't there?"

"If you're Persephone," Belle said. "How can you be here? And why didn't we see you in the Underworld?"

"Sleep's called the little death. I may not be citizen of the land of dreams—uh, that's figurative. We're not talking like the Land Without Magic or the Land With Giant, Singing Cockroaches. Trust me, this is all in your head. And, if you can't trust the voices in your head, who can you trust?—but I've got free travel rights.

"As for the Underworld, I have been pushing to get Uncle out of there for ages. I'd managed to get administration over some of the subterritories, like the Dark Ones afterlife, but Uncle still ran the big show. Still, that's how it goes when gods are handing out punishments. Timing is everything. It's like Penelope's suitors being homicidal boors with no manners for ten years before wrath fell from above. The stars must align. The fates need forms filled out in triplicate—which kind of makes sense with them when you think about them. But still.

"Anyhow, he's dead and staying dead—Sorry, by the way, about Hook. That was a necessary evil. Immortals dying and staying dead breaks a few rules. Even if it was fated, it needed to be balanced. A mortal who was dead needed to be sent back into life to close the doorway, and Hook was standing right there when Dad needed to grab someone. I still read him the riot act. He should be grateful to get a second chance, given where he would have been heading otherwise. That's how he got the geas laid on him."

"Geas?" Rumple asked.

"What, didn't he mention that? The guy's the spiritual equivalent of used chewing gum. Dad may have let him go, but there were strings. Think of it as community service. He has to help people, especially people he's wronged, or he's going to wish Uncle was still running the show the next time he dies. It won't be pretty. Trust me. But, that means he owes the two of you. I'll get you a copy of his probation terms, if you'd like."

"That's all well and good," Rumple said. "But, who is Morpheus?"

"Ah, let's see if we can figure it out. Belle, I know he's been rattling around in your head fogging up your thinking, but try to shake it off. You can put this together. Who do you know who's evil enough to do this, hates Rumple, knows all sorts of things about his past, and knows him well enough to know just how to use those things to hurt him? Oh, and maybe he has a history of pretending to be other people when he's messing with Rumple's mind?"

"I _am_ her son!" Morpheus said. "How else could I wake her with true love's kiss?"

"First, spoiled brats with entitlement issues may love their mommies—or that's what they say while they're collecting their allowance—but that doesn't make it true love. Second, you're in the temple of Morpheus. Here, with the use of the magic sands, you can wake someone from a sleeping curse even if you have true love. That's why Rumplestiltskin came here. Because he thought that was the problem. Do you follow what I'm saying or do I need to use smaller words? Belle, this guy was inside your head and messing with it from before you left the Underworld. Who is he?"

"Pan," Belle whispered. "He's Pan."

"And, that would be why I'm here." A bag of black velvet appeared in Persephone's hands. She held it open. "OK, you bad, little bunny. Back into your hutch. I'm tossing you back down your rabbit hole; and, this time, you're staying there."

"No! You can't—"

That was all he had time to say before being sucked in. Persephone pulled the drawstrings tight. "Well, it's been nice. If you two don't mind some unsolicited advice, I'd go see Archie for some marriage counseling, if I were you. I think you have a lot going for you as a couple, but you really need to work on your communication."

Belle put her hands protectively around her stomach. "It's not just communication," she said. "Not anymore."

Persephone hesitated. "Look, I know I'm not the first person people think of when they want to discuss their problems. But, I talk to a lot of people on what had to be the worst day of their lives. Most of them are looking back and they want to know if they did good or not. So, I'm not a total amateur when it comes to this stuff."

She looked around her. The room changed, becoming the dark, dreary castle of Belle's nightmares. Against the wall, Rumple saw something he'd tried to ignore before: the cage Zelena had kept him in for over a year.

"Belle," Persephone said gently. "Do you know why this is here?"

Belle looked at the cage. "The sleeping curse traps you in your regrets," she said.

"And you regret not being able to save your husband, don't you?"

"Yes."

"But, that's not all, is it? You told Regina, when she imprisoned you, that you would never stop fighting for him. _You_ wanted to be able to protect _him_. But, it's never worked out that way, has it? He died to save you. When you insisted on not running away from Storybrooke, you wanted to fight for him. Instead, he had to save you again. When Hook realized he was the Dark One, he threatened to kill Rumple, threatened to do it slowly and gruesomely, cutting him apart piece by piece. You had a weapon. You were willing to do whatever you could to save his life. But, you couldn't do anything."

Tears were running down Belle's face. Persephone's voice fell to a whisper. "And when you went to meet him at the well, you meant to stay with him, but the fear kept growing inside you. People have used you against him, and you couldn't stop him. You've tried to fight for him, and it wasn't enough.

"That's what you're really afraid of, isn't it? It's not the darkness and what it might do to Rumple. You tell yourself that's what it is, but it's everything. That's why you were so angry at your husband in the Underworld. It wasn't Gaston. Or not just him. You'd tried to save them both. Instead, your husband nearly died. Because of you."

"It wasn't—"

"I'm not blaming you. I'm just telling you what I see. You tried to save them both and you couldn't. Instead, you nearly destroyed everything you were trying to save.

"That's the real reason you were so desperate for a way out, then and there, no more wasting time. You were afraid of being used, of making another mistake. That's why you were willing to go to someone like Zelena for answers. _Because_ she's your enemy. Because you see yourself as bringing trouble to everyone around you, and the day hasn't dawned yet when you can care if trouble finds Zelena.

"That's why you don't want to wake up. And it's why you don't want to be with Rumple when you do. You're afraid for him."

"Yes," Belle whispered, weeping.

"No," Rumplestiltskin said. "Belle, you've always been my strength. Without you, I'm nothing. If—if you want to leave, I won't stop you. But, please, don't go because you're afraid for me. You may not see it, but I'm a better man because of you."

"Baby steps," Persephone said. "That's what I'd start with. Real babies start out small and take a while figuring out who they are and where there at." She held up the bag. "Unlike Mr. Loquacious, here. By the way, any baby who tries to tell his parents to split up because they're ruining his life needs a time out.

"If you guys want a suggestion, I'd begin with waking up. This place is to Jungian, even for me. I'd tell you to keep in touch but I don't want you to take that the wrong way. Still, if you run into any of my family, say hi for me. Ta."

She vanished in a puff of smoke.

Belle reached for Rumplestiltskin's hand. "I—I think I'm ready to wake up, now."


End file.
